the new (and hopefully improved) eggrollmama

If anyone is still out there, I've decided to jump back on the blogwagon. I could list out my reasons for why I haven't blogged, but who wants to hear that? For once, "I'm too busy" wouldn't be at the top of the list. [We have been incredibly busy - maybe the busiest month of my life! But that's not at the heart of my blog silence.]

At the heart of my blog silence is...well, my heart. You see...

The day before Silas' first birthday, I found out I was pregnant. This was not a planned pregnancy. Ohhhh no, let me tell you - I was starting to savor the beginnings of what life with big kids would feel like. I had just weaned Silas. I had just potty trained Abby. All the baby clothes were given away, and even baby toys were becoming harder and harder to find in our house.

Yes, Josh and I had agreed on a nonproliferation treaty, if you will. [Not that I'm equating kids to nuclear weapons.] "No more babies" was the route ahead. Ha! Until that little line on the pregnancy test.

For two weeks - maybe more? - I cried. I whined. I argued and protested, totally baffled that God would think that this was the best choice for me. Certainly, I did not see it that way.

Even in the midst of this response, I knew it was sinful. A phrase from part of the Westminster Shorter Catechism kept popping up in my mind: Sin is transgression of the revealed will of God, which teaches that we are to act in perfect holiness from a heart of faith to the glory of God.

Did you catch that part? From a heart of faith! My response to this situation was not one that was full of faith in a gracious God whose aims are His glory and my good. My response was full of emotion, that was based purely on my own desires and opinions. My response was not based on the truth of Scripture, it was based on the untrustworthy source of how I feel.

I felt overwhelmed.

I felt like I was losing control.

I felt like I was tired of cleaning poo, wiping spit up, making baby food, carrying a baby on my shoulders every time I left the house, waking in the night - in all honesty, I guess you could say I was tired of the level of servanthood that being a mama to an infant requires.

And yet, the Lord was gracious to me. Instead of throwing up His hands and declaring me to be a belligerent and selfish two-year-old (which was a pretty true description of myself), He was patient, kind, and gentle. Through His word and godly teaching, He confronted me with the good and true promises He gives His children. I grudgingly started the process of letting go of how I feel and grabbing on to those promises in Scripture.

Those promises that say -

"And He is able to make all grace abound to you, so that always having all sufficiency in all things, you may have an abundance for every good work." (2 Corinthians 9:8)

"Now He who supplies seed for the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness." (2 Corinthians 9:10)

"And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God...For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son..." (Romans 8:28-29)

The message I kept hearing from God through His word is that He is making me more like Christ. He is fulfilling His promise to conform me to the image of Christ, and one way He does that is by bringing circumstances into my life that jackhammer away at those areas that aren't Christlike. The end result will be a harvest of righteousness - and who of us doesn't want that? PLUS, He promised there would be an abundance of grace to get me through those difficult, jackhammer days.

I wish I could say I was in complete, cheerful submission to God's work in my life. That just wasn't the case. But I was making progress; I felt like each day I woke to a battle in my heart - that day, would I cater to my feelings or would I agree with and cling to the truth of Scripture? I've never felt so spiritually exhausted in my life. I was fighting for my faith, and it was messier and harder than I thought it would be.

Then, things took a turn and I started bleeding. Unusual for me, but not unusual in early pregnancy - so I decided not to worry and let it run its course. Sooner or later, I figured, something would happen that would either show that everything was ok or everything was definitely not ok.

After a week when things still hadn't cleared up and actually had seemed to increase, I decided to go to a local hospital to have things checked out. Convinced that I was miscarrying, I asked them to do an ultrasound and look for a heartbeat.

No one was more shocked than I was when they found a heartbeat. Thump-thump-thumping loud and clear on the little machine. In fact, the nurse told me that everything looked totally normal. I should get off my feet more, she advised me, but everything was fine. The emotional rollercoaster just kept going. I had seen a heartbeat; now this wasn't an inconvenience, it was a baby.

I went home, did some lunch prep for guests we were having the next day, and grabbed some books off the homeschool shelf. I called for my little ones to join me on the couch and we sat and read books. I rested more that afternoon than I had in a month.

So when I started having contractions not three hours after getting the "Everything looks great!" from the doc, my emotions had nothing left to give. Since I'd had a previous miscarriage, I knew without a doubt what was happening. Contractions are an unmistakable feeling after you've had them as much as I have.

As the day turned to night and turned into next week, it was certain that I had miscarried. We were just entering into the busiest several weeks we've perhaps ever had, so there was little time for reflection for me. In quiet moments though, it was hard to fight my guilt. If only I'd been...

But the same scriptures that convicted me and propelled me to trust the Lord when I didn't want to be pregnant became a balm to my battered soul when I was no longer pregnant.

His grace and sovereignty in my life became clearer than ever. Truthfully, it was nearly statistically impossible for me to become pregnant. Then, according to the doctors, I should not have miscarried. And yet both things happened. The only response I can have is - Lord, Your will be done.

One of the casualties of this situation has been my idea that I'm the one in charge of the course my life takes. I would publicly testify that I believe God is the one who determines our path (as *ahem* clearly shown in Scripture) but obviously that positive pregnancy test - and my reaction to it - exposed the reality that I'm not in charge. This life is not my life to plan.

The life that I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me...

I've got this one life - and in my reborn heart of hearts, I want to use it to glorify God. So why am I so insistent that I'm the one in charge of it all? Thankfully, that's one of those areas that's getting some love from the Lord's jackhammer.

There have been lots of heart issues being worked out in me these last several weeks. I won't go into all of the lessons I've learned, but I will share this: I pray that when the next difficulty comes along - another unplanned pregnancy or otherwise - my response will be one of faith, not feeling. Faith with no doubting. A faith that is certain of God's goodness, His ultimate sovereignty, and His unparalleled wisdom and glory.

With a faith like that, there's no room for my own grumbling. May it be, Lord. May it be.